Being Alone Doesn't Mean Being Lonely
by bacta.junkie
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy loved being alone. This was probably a good thing, since Scorpius Malfoy is somewhat... strange.


**Hello, dear readers! A few things to note before you read this:**

**1. These characters are in no way related to the Scorpius and Rose of any other stories I've written; each individual story is its own self-contained universe unless otherwise stated. (Although, as you'll note when you read this story, sometimes those universes can have tunnels between them...)**

**2. Fair warning: this is the weirdest thing I've ever written. By far. It's not offensive- at least, it shouldn't be- and it's not even obscene, for that matter. It's just... weird. That said, there is a bit of content that could be considered 'obscene' by a very conservative definition, so I apologize if anyone is offended.**

**3. Scorpius is not incredibly anti-social, and neither is Rose. They're introverted; that means that while extroverts gain energy from social interaction, they expend it. Much of Scorpius' behavior, as with most of my male characters, is modeled after my own experience. I am also an introvert. This in no way makes Scorpius an "author avatar" or a "Mary Sue" or anything of the sort; it's just me writing about what I'm familiar with. Again, I apologize if anyone gets that impression of him, or Rose, for that matter.**

**4. Finally, the standard disclaimer applies: I am not J.K. Rowling. Nor am I Warner Brothers Entertainment. Please don't sue me for copyright infringment. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy loved being alone.

Make no mistake- he adored his friends, his housemates, his family; he wouldn't trade them for the world. Having spent six-and-a-half years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, cooped up in Ravenclaw tower with his housemates, he was very used to having people around him. But he'd grown up in a manor that rarely contained more than a few people, where you could wander the halls for hours and never encounter a single soul, and he'd learned to love the silence. Scorpius did his best thinking when he was alone; it was always easier to hold a conversation with himself when there was nobody around to distract him.

So when, on the first morning of Christmas break his seventh year, he came down to breakfast to find the Ravenclaw table completely empty, he was doing mental cartwheels.

_This is fantastic!_ _I have the tower to myself for two whole weeks!_

He ate his breakfast slowly, savoring each bite. Normally he'd have to eat fast- Ravenclaws needed their thinkin' food, and the table was often empty within minutes of the meal's appearance. He also enjoyed not having to stop between bites to answer some inane question or address a friend who was attempting to start a conversation- although anyone who'd known him more than a few weeks knew not to interrupt Scorpius Malfoy while he was eating, or risk a patented Malfoy Death Stare directed at them.

Scorpius had an ulterior motive for his lengthy meal, too; he wanted to see if any late risers would be coming to the Ravenclaw table. It was no use getting his hopes up for an entire break to himself if there might be people still staying. The memory of his fifth year came back to him; he had had an early breakfast and the table had been empty, and in his excitement he'd assumed the tower would be too. He was quite embarrassed when he returned to his common room to find a handful of sleepy faces staring at him as he skipped through the portal.

After several hours of eating and light reading, Scorpius decided he could declare his house empty and went for a stroll. The day's walk took him all over the castle; he stopped to chat with the portraits. He'd always loved talking to the portraits, as they were full of history and, as a Ravenclaw, he adored all learning, and enjoyed history in particular. The stories they told him were fascinating, and whenever he came across a particularly chatty painting he sat on the hard stone floor and listened to their tales. They spoke of muggle and wizard interactions prior to the Statutes of Secrecy; of valiant knights and fearsome monsters; of love and romance, loss and death. On this particular winter morning, the portrait he had met was an ancient-looking goblin riding the back of a sea serpent across what appeared to be open ocean and, upon his asking, was revealed to be the English Channel. The story the goblin told him was of one of the goblin rebellions he'd read so much about in History of Magic; somehow, hearing it firsthand was far more interesting than hearing it from a monotone ghost.

Scorpius was forced to cut the creature's tales short when he noticed the sun dipping low on the horizon. The day had gone by all too fast; his stomach grumbling told him it was time for dinner. He was quite thankful he'd spent so much time eating breakfast; had he eaten at his regular pace, he'd have been starving by now. With great haste, he thanked the goblin for its time and took his leave. He was alarmed to note that the castle had rearranged itself while he'd been chatting with the portrait. By the time he made it to the Great Hall, he was more than ready to pig out on his dinner. With more than a hint of glee, he realized he wouldn't have to restrain his manners, either, since nobody in his house was there, and the other houses almost certainly didn't care or wouldn't even notice.

If he'd been paying more attention to his surroundings than his stomach, Scorpius Malfoy might have noticed one of his housemates- a certain ginger-haired girl- entering the hall at the same time as he exited the enormous doors.

* * *

The sky had darkened to black by the time Scorpius returned to his common room. The windows in the spiral staircase he ascended glistened with newly fallen snow, and off in the distance the lights of Hogsmeade twinkled. He smiled despite himself; drinking butterbeer in a corner of the Three Broomsticks on Hogsmeade weekends was a very fond memory, since he was often there by his lonesome. Even though the pub was usually quite noisy- especially when the rest of the students were there- having his own booth to himself meant that he didn't have to carry on a conversation, so he could focus on his thoughts and shut out the rest of the world. He often found himself drifting into his own little world, and within that world he'd create several smaller worlds, and sometimes those smaller worlds would have tunnels between them, and then within those worlds he'd find even more universes to explore- he was considering writing a book and selling it to the wizarding world; he was almost certain wizards had yet to discover science fiction, and despite his house, he was the child of two Slytherins, and couldn't help but want to capitalize on a lucrative opportunity.

The young blonde stepped into his common room, blissfully, wonderfully empty. It seemed like the entire day had led up to this moment. He inhaled deeply through his nose, sighing with contentment. Scorpius approached one of the bookshelves that lined the tower, picked out a random tome, and spirited himself away into his empty dorm.

Just as he ascended the stairs to the boy's half of the tower, flash of red hair appeared on the staircase opposite his own.

Neither noticed each other's presence.

* * *

He'd fallen asleep while reading his book. It was exceedingly dull, and he couldn't bring himself to care about the many uses of various nuts in the practice of potion-making, but his own existence had taught him never to be quick to pass judgment- his arrival at Hogwarts and sorting into Ravenclaw house was testament to that. However, after finding himself newly conscious at 1:47 AM with the most boring book in the world lying face open on his stomach, he decided to forgive himself, just this once, for literally judging a book by its cover.

Wide awake at this point, having fallen asleep far earlier than he was used to, Scorpius decided to return the book to the shelves and get another one. He tiptoed his way out of his bed before laughing out loud (and quite uproariously) at the absurdity of trying to remain quiet in a completely empty tower. Instead, he merrily hopped out of the empty room, singing loudly to himself a song he recalled hearing once while at the Three Broomsticks. Drunken wizards, he had found, were entertaining singers.

It was while scanning the shelves for a suitable replacement to his nut book that an entirely new thought struck him.

He was all alone.

The nearest living thing was several floors and a difficult riddle away.

_Why am I still wearing clothes?_

Giggling uncontrollably, Scorpius stripped out of his pajamas and rested them on a table nearby. Withdrawing his wand from his pants pocket (even at night in his jim-jams, he never left bed without it), he lit the fireplace and charmed himself warm so he wouldn't shiver in his nudity.

It was such an enlightening feeling. He didn't have to worry about his manners, or his upbringing, or pleasing his friends or entertaining guests or anything at all. He didn't have to care about not soiling the family name, or about studying for his NEWTs, or entertaining his friends. All alone in his tower, with not a stitch of clothing and not a care in the world, dancing happily about the circular room singing his drinking songs at full volume, Scorpius Malfoy was the happiest boy in the entire world.

Until the moment Rose Weasley came down from her room to investigate the noise and found that the quiet kid in her year had totally lost his marbles.

The witch practically squealed his surname in surprise and mortal terror, and in a moment of panic and shock, he attempted to make himself decent with his wand. To his absolute horror, his wand responded to his instructions and in an instant, without even a puff of smoke, his "wand" (along with both his bludgers) had vanished, leaving him smooth as a Ken doll.

Scorpius Malfoy fainted.

* * *

He awoke on the couch by the fireplace, a blanket wrapped around his body, the fire still burning. He lifted the blanket to find that yes, he was whole again and yes, he was alone, and he was ready to write the whole experience off as the strangest dream of his life, when his savior returned from her room with two cups of tea.

Placing one of them on the table in front of him, she sat in the chair opposite the fire, a faint blush still on her face.

"I'll begin with this," she mumbled. "What the hell, Malfoy?"

He opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again.

This happened several more times.

Finally, unable to think properly, he decided to just start from the beginning. All the way back to his childhood he went, telling her a story worthy of a portrait: how he wandered the halls of the manor as a child; how he'd played hide-and-seek with house elves and found them, with all of their magic, unable to locate him in his hiding places. How despite his great attachment to those people in his life whom he loved very much- his family, his friends, his housemates- it was very exhausting to have to interact with humans so often. After reaching the conclusion of his tale ("…and that's when you came down the stairs, and shortly thereafter I fainted."), she took a long moment to compose her thoughts. The blush had vanished from her cheeks. She started to say something, and stopped.

"Honestly, Malfoy," she began.

"Scorpius," she corrected herself.

"I understand- I do. I'm just the same way." The blush had returned to her cheeks.

"You mean you also dance around in the nude when you're alone?" He laughed awkwardly, a faint blush reaching his face as well.

"No, I'm not confident enough to do that- not even when I'm alone. I have to applaud you, though."

"Why's that?" he queried, curious.

"Well, for one thing, that you had the courage to try something so bizarre- even alone. You are quite dashing, you know…" she muttered, unable to stop herself. "I mean, very handsome- I mean- not- well- you look good…" her voice trailed off, her face growing redder and redder with each word. The tension and awkwardness was palpable in the air.

"What I meant to say, though," she started up again, "is that I get like that- I mean, I love being alone, too. I grew up surrounded by cousins and uncles and aunts and honestly there's so bloody many of them, it's just exhausting trying to keep up, you know?"

He laughed in spite of himself. He was familiar with her family; in his eternal quest for knowledge, even useless knowledge, he had tried to learn their names in his first year and given up halfway through the first term. It seemed every time he thought he'd gotten them all down, another one would come into existence who he'd never seen before.

"I'm sorry for flashing you. And waking you, for that matter," he smiled. "I didn't see you at breakfast- or dinner, for that matter- and I just assumed I had the tower to myself. If I'd known you were here, I wouldn't have even thought about it- I just thought I was alone…" He was rambling at this point, trying to justify his (admittedly somewhat crazy) actions.

Luckily, she seemed to understand, and laughed adorably. "All is forgiven. Also, you forgot to thank me for giving you your junk back. It took quite a bit of concentration for me to get my wand to do what I was telling it to- I couldn't stop laughing, the whole situation was just so absurd…"

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. I'm glad you could get a good laugh at my expense, Weasley- er, Rose," he corrected himself as she had. "Anyway, thank you for that."

"But you know what I've noticed, talking to you just now?" she smiled. "Every conversation I've ever had has taxed my energy- like I have a set amount of energy I can spend talking to people before I have to recharge with food or sleep or just being alone and relaxing for a bit, and whenever I talk to someone, it takes some of energy."

He nodded along, knowing exactly what she meant and feeling quite certain he knew where she was going with this. "But now, with this conversation…" He prompted her.

"This one has not done that, not in the slightest. Talking to you is as natural as-"

"Talking to myself," they said in unison.

Another awful idea popped into Scorpius' head. "Rose Weasley, forgive me if this is a bit forward of me- actually, I should just apologize in advance for what I'm about to say- but would you be opposed to the idea of getting naked and skipping around the common room singing drinking songs with me?" A creeping blush colored his features, glowing in the firelight.

Rose thought for a long moment, and Scorpius was worried he'd offended her, but slowly, a Cheshire cat-like grin grew on her features. "I'd be honored to, Scorpius Malfoy."

He couldn't help but stare as she removed her pajamas- at least until she threatened to remove his unmentionables again- but any self-conscious or concerns of modesty she'd had were gone when he uttered a soft "Blimey, Rose" upon seeing her silhouetted in the moonlight. She grinned, blushing- they'd both done an awful lot of blushing that evening, she noted- and took his hand. He allowed the blanket to fall from his body, and together they danced gleefully in the night, belting drunken melodies at the top of their lungs. There was nothing perverse or sexual about their movements or their thoughts. It was about liberation. With this simple act of defiance against society, this one moment where all of their worries and pressures were literally stripped of their bodies, they had truly found freedom. And as they fell to the floor on the backs beside each other, laughing hysterically as the sun rose over the horizon, they were the happiest people in the entire world.

* * *

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**


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